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CAMERA SHOTS 
AT BIG GAME 



CAMERA SHOTS AT 
BIG GAME 



BY 



A. G. WALLIHAN 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT 




NEW YORK 
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. 

1901 



Tvie I.IERARY OF 

OOWGSESS, 
Two Cut'iea ReoErvEO 

DEC. 9 1901 

CLASS ^XXn No. 
QOPY IJ. 



fo 






Copyright, 1 901, by 

DOUBLEDAY, PaGE & Co. 
No'vember^ igoi 



The DeVinne Press 




INTRODUCTION 

TT is a pleasure to write an introduction to Mr. 
Wallihan's really noteworthy book, for his pho- 
tographs of wild game possess such peculiar 
value that all lovers, whether of hunting or of 
natural history, should be glad to see them preserved in per- 
manent form. The art and practice of photographing wild 
animals in their native haunts has made great progress in 
recent years. It is itself a branch of sport, and hunting with 
the camera has many points of superiority when compared to 
hunting with the rifle. But, even under favorable conditions, 
very few men have the skill, the patience, the woodcraft and 
plainscraft which enabled Mr. Wallihan to accomplish so 
much; and, moreover, the conditions as regards most of our 
big game animals are continually changing for the worse. 
The difficulties of getting really good and characteristic photo- 
graphs are such as to be practically insuperable where game is 
very scarce and very shy, and throughout most of the United 
States game is steadily growing scarcer and shyer. Photo- 
graphs in a game preserve, no matter how large this preserve, 
are, of course, not quite the same thing. 

The elk have now almost everywhere diminished in numbers 
so that it would be very difficult indeed to get pictures like some 

5 



6 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

of Mr. Wallihan's, and though the blacktail and the antelope last 
better, yet they, too, can nowhere be found as they were but a 
dozen years ago. The cougar pictures have an especial value. 
Where cougars are plentiful it is easier to take their photographs 
than in the case of deer, and there are a number of localities in 
the Rockies where they are still fairly abundant ; but they are 
steadily growing scarcer, and where they have become really 
scarce the work of the photographer becomes one of such 
hopeless labor, the chance for success is so very small, as to be 
practically prohibitive. There are still cougars east of the 
Mississippi, but nowadays it would be a simple impossibility 
for any man to take of them such pictures as Mr. Wallihan 
has taken of the Colorado cougars. Moreover, even where 
cougars are plentiful, the photographer might work a lifetime 
before getting such a remarkable picture as that of the cougar 
jumping in mid-air. As I know from practical experience, it 
is exceedingly difficult, even when the cougar has been treed, 
to get a really fine photograph, as it is not possible to choose 
the conditions of ground and light in advance. 

Mr. Wallihan's hunting was in northwestern Colorado and 
western Wyoming — regions where I have often followed the 
game he describes. There are no whitetail deer in the coun- 
try he covered, the buffalo were extinct before he began work 
with his camera, and he never had luck with bears. But his 
series of elk, antelope, blacktail and mountain lion pictures 
leave little to be desired. It is, by the way, difficult to deter- 
mine whether to use the ordinary vernacular names of these 



Pi, 





C«Pf light, b; A. G. Wallihau. 



" I caught them strung out clear across the river. 
(Deer IS) 



INTRODUCTION 7 

animals, or their book names, which are better in themselves, 
but which unfortunately have not been popularly adopted. 
The elk, for instance, has no resemblance to the animal prop- 
erly called the elk in the Old World, which is the blood 
brother of the moose, nor yet to the other animals improperly 
called elk in Asia and Africa. The blacktail of the Rocky 
Mountains is not the true blacktail of the Pacific coast. The 
antelope is not an antelope at all, occupying an entirely unique 
position as the only hollow-horned ruminant which annually 
sheds its horns. It would be far better if the three could be 
known as wapiti, mule-deer and prong-buck. But unfortu- 
nately they are rarely known by these titles in common speech. 
With the cougar the case is a little different. It is sometimes 
called cougar among the ranchmen, and the names of panther 
and mountain lion, by which it is known respectively in the 
East and in the West, are so misleading that it is best to drop 
them and give it the proper title. 

The elk, or wapiti, were still plentiful in northwestern Col- 
orado a decade ago, going in large herds. The merciless per- 
secution they have suffered for the sake of their flesh, hide, 
antlers and teeth has resulted in the species being reduced to a 
few hundred individuals. The Wyoming elk are travelling 
the same path, although the existence of the great protected 
nursery and breeding-ground in the Yellowstone National Park 
has delayed the process and gives us reasonable hope that the 
animals will never become entirely extinct. The part played 
by true sportsmen, worthy of the name, in this extinction has 



8 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

been nil, and indeed very little appreciable harm has been 
done by any men who have merely hunted in season for 
trophies. The real damage has come from the professional 
hunters and their patrons. In a wild frontier country it is too 
much to expect that the settlers will not occasionally kill meat 
for their own use, though every effort should be made to 
educate them to the knowledge that a wapiti or deer free in 
the woods will, by attracting tourists, bring into the neighbor- 
hood many times as much money as the dead carcass would 
represent. The professional game butchers, however, have no 
excuse of any kind. They kill the animal for the hide and 
for the flesh. Moreover, the horns are strikingly ornamental 
and are freely purchased by a certain class of wealthy people 
who wholly lack the skill and hardihood necessary to those 
who would themselves be hunters, and who have not the good 
taste to see that antlers properly have their chief value as 
trophies. Nothing adds more to a hall or a room than fine 
antlers when they have been shot by the owner, but there is 
always an element of the absurd in a room furnished with 
trophies of the chase which the owner has acquired by pur- 
chase. Even less defensible is it either to kill or to put a 
premium upon the killing of this noble and beautiful creature 
for the sake of its teeth. Yet the habit of wearing elk's teeth 
on watch-chains and the like has been responsible for no small 
amount of slaughter. The Audubon societies have done use- 
ful work in trying to prevent the destruction of song-birds 
and waders for millinery purposes. It would be well if some 




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■II 



^ 



INTRODUCTION 9 

similar society would wage war against the senseless fashion of 
wearing elk's teeth when the wearer has not shot the animal ; 
for such a fashion simply becomes one cause of extermination. 
The mule, or Rocky Mountain blacktail, deer is in some 
localities migratory. This is the case in Colorado, where the 
winter and summer ranges of the deer are wholly distinct, and 
where during the migrations the animals follow well-estab- 
lished trails leading over and among the mountains and across 
the streams. Some of Mr. Wallihan's most beautiful pictures 
are those taken of deer crossing a stream. In dealing with 
the prong-horn antelope, on the other hand, a shy and far- 
sighted creature of the dry, open prairie, almost the only chance 
consisted in catching the game when it came to drink. Inci- 
dentally it will be seen that Mr. Wallihan in his description 
lays stress upon the superior keenness of vision of the antelope 
as compared to the deer. Mr. Wallihan is a very close and 
accurate observer, as indeed it was necessary he should be in 
order to obtain such results as he has obtained. His remarks 
on the comparative dullness of the deer's eyesight are in accord 
not only with my experience, but with those of almost every 
first-class hunter whom I have met. Yet I have known book 
authorities to assert the contrary. Of course it is all a matter 
of comparison. A deer's vision is better than that of a buffalo, 
and, I believe, better than that of a bear, and a motion catches 
its eye at once. But the antelope has better sight by far than 
any other game, and will be brought to a condition of alert 
suspicion by the sight of a man at a distance so great that he 



lo CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

would be practically certain to escape observation from a 
deer. 

In Mr. Wallihan's cougar hunting he had the good for- 
tune to be associated with Mr. Frank Wells, a first-class hunter 
with an excellent pack of hounds. Mr. Wells is not only a 
good hunter, but a good observer. He has written two or 
three pieces about cougars and cougar hunting which are filled 
with refreshing common sense, in striking contrast to the aver- 
age tales on the subject. More nonsense has been talked and 
written about the cougar than about any other American 
beast. Even experienced hunters often gravely talk of cougars 
ten and eleven feet long. As Mr. Wells has pointed out, these 
figures are never even approximated. The animal is variable 
in size, and very rarely a monster old male will reach the 
length of eight feet ; but by no system of fair measurement 
will any cougar ever be found to go more than a very few 
inches over this limit, and even an eight-foot cougar is a giant 
of its kind. Hardly one in a hundred reaches such a length. 
The cougar is very destructive to deer and colts as well as 
calves, sheep, young elk, etc. When pressed by hunger, big 
cougars will kill full-grown elk, horses and cattle ; but they are 
cowardly beasts, and not only is it a wholly exceptional cir- 
cumstance for them to attack any human being unprovoked, 
but they do not even make an effective fight against man when 
cornered. They rarely charge, and, as far as I know, never 
from any distance. A small number of really good fighting 
dogs can kill a cougar, and it readily trees even before dogs 




Copjright, 18&4, by A. G. WttUihao. 



" A herd crossing to the opposite slope." 




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INTRODUCTION 1 1 

that would be quite incapable of mastering it. If man or 
dog comes close up, there is of course danger from the for- 
midable jaws and sharp claws; but commonly the danger is 
only to the pack. Only in very rare cases is there any to 
the hunter. Owing to the cougar's habits, the only method of 
pursuing it which offers any reasonable chance of success is 
with hounds. It is occasionally killed by accident without 
hounds, but under such circumstances the chances of success 
are so small as not to warrant even the most skilful hunter 
making a practice of pursuing it in this manner. 

Mr. Wallihan is not only a good photographer, but a lover 
of nature and of the wild life of the wilderness. His pictures 
and his descriptions are good in themselves as records of a fas- 
cinating form of life which is passing away. Moreover, they 
should act as spurs to all of us to try to see that this life does 
not wholly vanish. It will be a real misfortune if our wild 
animals disappear from mountain, plain and forest, to be found 
only, if at all, in great game preserves. It is to the interest of 
all of us to see that there is ample and real protection for our 
game as for our woodlands. A true democracy, really alive to its 
opportunities, will insist upon such game preservation, for it is 
to the interest of our people as a whole. More and more, as it 
becomes necessary to preserve the game, let us hope that the 
camera will largely supplant the rifle. It is an excellent thing 
to have a nation proficient in marksmanship, and it is highly un- 
desirable that the rifle should be wholly laid by. But the shot 
is, after all, only a small part of the free life of the wilderness. 



12 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

The chief attractions lie in the physical hardihood for which 

the life calls, the sense of limitless freedom which it brings, and 

the remoteness and wild charm and beauty of primitive nature. 

All of this we get exactly as much in hunting with the camera 

as in hunting with the rifle ; and of the two, the former is the 

kind of sport which calls for the higher degree of skill, patience, 

resolution, and knowledge of the life history of the animal 

sought. 

Theodore Roosevelt. 

Dated Sagamore Hill, Oyster Bay, N. Y., 
May thirty-first, nineteen hundred and one. 




t- 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PHOTOGRAVURES 

A Surprised Band. -^ 

Deer Drinking. 

Bucks and Does. 

Deer Crossing the River at Night. 

A Fawn, hiding. 

Startled Does. 

A Pair of Elk. 

Antelope and Badger. 

A Bunch of Antelope. 

A Band of Mountain Sheep. 

An Old Ram. 

Ducks in the River 

In the Snow. '^ 

Leaping Cougar. 

An Anxious Cougar Hound. 

An Ugly Customer. 

13 



14 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

At Bay. 

Hound and Treed Wildcat. 

Jack-rabbit, Resting and on the Jump. 

A Black Bear. 

A Coyote. 

HALF-TONE PLATES 

" I caught them strung clear across the river." 

A herd crossing to the opposite slope. 

" The main part of the band was to the left of the view." 

"They were at 'attention' instantly." 

"They evidently suspected something." 

"With every sense alert for danger." 

"He is not frightened, but stops short." 

"The old doe looked back to see if there really was any danger." 

"So I exposed on this spike at thirty feet." 

"He was beautiful, standing amid the flowers and grasses." 

"This time he stood facing me." 

" I caught a fine picture at the short distance of twenty-four steps." 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 15 

A frightened fawn, hiding. 

Six hundred Elk in one picture. • 

" ' Boston ' winded him and brought him to bay." 

"I made exposures in different poses." 

"This one led us a merry chase." 

A bull Elk at close range. 

"Just as they began to go out of sight I caught them." .^ 

"The last one of a small herd." ^ 

"As they would not come closer, I took them." -^ 

"As they stood alert I caught them." "' 

A close view of Antelope and fawn. 

Antelope crossing a dry gulch. 

"Unsuspecting of any danger." 

'The Eagle went down off the nest, so the view is of her back." 

Two views of Snow-shoe Rabbit in summer coat. 

" The Duck waked and started for the water instantly." ^' 

A blue Grouse at close range. -■ 

"Her face framed in piiion boughs." 

"A very wild female : with much care I was able to get a 
view of her head." 



1 6 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Sprawled from limb to limb in as awkward a pose as she could get." 

"With a telephoto lens at thirty feet." 

A magnificent view at twenty-five feet. 

"Once or twice I approached within twenty feet, but he made 
ready to spring at me, so I retreated." 

"A very vicious-looking view, as close as I dared." 

"The Lion had crawled around in a crevice, and was lying - 
there very quietly." 

"I approached within fifteen feet and took my last snap." 

"At this tree I got within fifteen feet." 
"A big one, that treed in a very low cedar." 

A near view of a Bear. 




-J tfj 



% 






PREFACE 

)HE material has been obtained for this volume 
under the deep blue of Colorado skies while 
the summer sun beat fiercely, or when the win- 
ter cold was so intense as to interfere with hand- 
ling the camera. The pictures have been made in the open 
country, outwitting the far-seeing antelope, or by riversides, 
while the author awaited with bated breath the near approach 
of a bunch of deer. Again, the work has been done in the 
mountains where the fawns lay hidden, their mothers bounding 
away upon approach, where the fat bucks sought the shelter 
of the oak brush or lay out in a point of aspens that the sun 
might harden their horns, where the streams were filled 
with lusty trout ; or, following the hounds in winter on the trail 
of a cougar over the hills and canons of White River, or on 
into the bleak, wind-swept ranges of Wyoming, matching skill 
with the bighorn or (on skis) the lordly elk. The intense 
fascination of our study of game has taught patience and de- 
manded perseverance without limit. Privation and hardship 
have been mitigated by the pleasures obtained from hunting 
and fishing, and in greater measure from the study of the game. 
The first attempt made was in the autumn of 1889, but the 
only result was to learn some of the difficulties and necessities. 

17 - 



1 8 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

Very little of the work has been done by hand-camera, this 
being used only where the tripod was impossible. At the 
commencement no hand-camera at all was available, and since 
then none has been used. Consequently, the work has been 
more laborious as well as less speedy, and occasional chances 
have been lost through the time taken to set up the camera. 
Up to 1894 Carbutt's cut films were principally used, but find- 
ing greater speed in Cramer's Crown plates, these have been 
employed since that time. The short-focussed and convenient 
hand-camera would have been worthless for most of the work, as 
the size of the resultant image would have been too small for 
value. A Gundlach Rectigraphic lens was used for several years. 
This gave a focus of 8j^ inches, while the back lens, used alone, 
o-ave a focus of \ 7,14 inches, and the front lens 18 inches. 
In 1894 a Zeiss series II lens was added for greater speed and 
found to be very satisfactory, and while a telephoto lens was 
attached to the Zeiss in 1895, it has proved to be too slow for 
very effective work. Of all the shutters, the Bausch & Lomb 
Optical Co.'s diaphragm shutter has turned out to be the best. 
So much for mechanical outfit. 

For me, at least, there is a charm about the blacktail, or 
mule-deer, that no other game possesses. Barring the bighorn, 
their meat is the best, their hide tans into the best buckskin, 
and you turn from the larger elk or the agile antelope to the 
graceful beauty of a blacktail buck, and find there the greater 
satisfaction. The head of the bighorn is a finer trophy, no 
doubt, and you are led to grand scenery in pursuit of him, but 




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' With every sense alert for danger,' 




Copyright, 1890, by A. G, Wallih 



'He is not frightened, but stops short." 
(Deer 56) 



PREFACE 19 

it is heart-breaking work. Where you find the blacktail you 
will find other pleasures, for he delights in the most charming 
bits of country to be found. He will jump up from the tall 
weeds and grass among the aspens, so close as to startle you as 
you ride through them, or will leap into view from the shade 
of a deep washout far in the desert, where he finds in the feed 
and surroundings something to suit his taste. He is crafty, 
also; for if he thinks he is hidden I have known him to lie in 
thick brush until almost kicked out, after all sorts of expedients 
to drive him out had failed. He has, perhaps, the keenest 
scent and the best hearing of all the deer tribe, although an 
elk matches him very closely. He cannot see as well as the 
antelope, for I have stood within ten or twenty feet of several 
passing bands which failed to distinguish me from a stump or 
rock. Antelope will approach very closely, occasionally, out 
of pure inquisitiveness, but never a deer. If anything moves, 
a deer sees it instantly, but he cannot tell what a still object is, 
and the elk and bighorn are the same. I have exposed myself 
with impunity to bighorn where antelope would have laughed 
me to scorn. The antelope is, without doubt, the most active 
of the four game animals under discussion. I have seen them, 
when chasing each other at full speed, turn instantly in the re- 
verse direction, without any check or curve. 

To Mr. William Wells is due the credit for planning the 
mountain-lion, wildcat, and bear hunts, and selecting many of 
the views of this volume. The manner of hunting them is 
with foxhounds specially trained for the purpose. They must 



20 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

be trained to cross deer and elk trails, and even run through 
herds of these animals, without leaving the lion's trail, or the 
work will be well-nigh useless; for where the game winter, 
there the cougar will be found. All the lion-hunters I know 
estimate that every lion kills fifty deer every year after he is 
grown, and that he is destructive to other game in like pro- 
portion. He is the wariest and most skulking animal of which 
I know anything. In thirty years in the Rockies I have seen 
(excepting those treed by dogs) but one wild one. 

The chances for a camera shot at a wild bear were not to be 
thought of, so the views shown are of trapped bear. I have 
met but six in my wanderings. As with the lion hunts, Mr. 
William Wells planned the bear hunt, and to his skill as a 
trapper is due our success. The bear were caught on Slate 
Creek, near Pagoda Peak, in Colorado. 

William Wells, the noted guide then of Marvine Lodge in 
Colorado, proposed that we try for pictures of mountain lion, 
which he hunted in winter with a pack of hounds; so, after a 
month spent the first winter in which two good negatives were 
obtained, we started in the second winter better prepared. 
Wells had a splendid pack and much experience; and as he had 
a large outfit of horses, we had good saddle- and pack-horses. 
We generally hunted from Wells's winter camp, but occasion- 
ally made side trips, being welcome at almost any ranchman's, 
as the lions are very destructive to colts and the stock-raisers 
were glad to help exterminate them. 

A. G. Wallihan. 




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CHAPTER I 

^N October, 1890, I placed myself and camera 
on a ridge that runs at a right angle with the 
course of the great deer trail from Black Moun- 
tain (the westerly end of the Elkhead Range in 
northwest Colorado) to Coyote Basin, in the valley of the White 
River, where the deer winter. I had examined the trails and 
selected the one with the most tracks in it, and going to one 
side about forty yards, I placed the camera and tripod as low as 
possible behind rabbitweed. When all was ready I walked to the 
hilltop and peered over to see if any deer were coming. Just 
over the next ridge a little band was headed in my direction, 
and my heart beat faster at the prospect of shooting game 
with a new "gun" — the camera. 

I watched them come down the hill and across the little 
valley, until they were at the foot of the hill whereon I stood, 
then slipped back to the camera, drew the slide, set the 
shutter, and, crouching behind the brush, awaited their coming. 
Suddenly the head and ears of a doe came in sight, and the 
others rapidly crowded along until they were out in front, just 
where I desired them. I gave a low whistle. Instantly they 
were still, every eye and ear alert. (No. i.) The click of 
the shutter was so faint that they did not hear it, and after a 

21 



22 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

moment or two they passed on down the trail, unaware of 
their proximity to mankind. After waiting an hour or two 
longer, I returned home, and upon developing the negative 
was elated to find it a good one — the first successful exposure 
I had ever made in my game series. 

I have yet to see the person who can hide on these trails 
and allow a band of deer to approach as close as they must to 
secure good negatives without becoming excited. Probably I 
am no better than the tenderest of tenderfeet. Some men will 
not admit their excitement, while others freely confess that 
they cannot command it. I could hear one man's heart beat 
as plainly as if he were striking his fist upon his chest, while 
a band of deer was passing close to our hiding-place. 

The next good negative was obtained the following spring, 
when the deer were returning to their summer quarters. I 
was in Juniper Mountain canon, on Bear River, with a com- 
panion, when some deer came down to cross. We slipped 
behind a big boulder, as close as we could, and by carefully 
raising the camera until it peeped over the rock, I was able to 
catch them on the rocks at the water's edge. (No. 3.) 

A year or two passed with but poor success, until, one 
morning in October, my wife and I arose to find about four 
inches of snow covering everything outside our tent. Hur- 
riedly disposing of breakfast, we started down the canon, along 
the edge of the water, much of the way with barely room to 
pass at the foot of the rocky ledges which came right down to 
the river. Arriving at the deer trails, we found signs that sev- 






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ropjriclit, UiW. by A. G. Willibni 



" He was beautiful standing amid the 

flowers and grasses." 

(Deer 61) 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 23 

eral small bands had already crossed, so we quicky hid our- 
selves as best we could among the rocks along the water's 
edge. Away up yonder, another band was coming over the 
summit of the canon wall, and we were still as mice. Wind- 
ing and twisting in single file, over small ledges and down long 
slopes they came on. Occasionally we could hear the fawns 
bleating in a pitiful, complaining way, as if tired or separated 
from the dams. I counted them as they scattered along the trail, 
and found that they numbered an even sixty. Now they were 
directly opposite, and without much ado the leaders marched 
straight in and waded across. When they had reached the 
rocks on the near side, I snapped the shutter and caught them 
strung out clear across the river. (No. 18.) We waited all 
the day, but no more appeared, so we returned to camp, hun- 
gry after our long wait in the cold, to enjoy a hearty supper. 

Later in the month I got one more negative in the cedars 
near home. I had the camera peeping over the top of a 
cedar about three feet high, the low brush hiding me from 
sight. A doe and two fawns came leisurely along until within 
thirty feet, which was as near as I dared allow them. I made 
a very faint noise, which their big ears caught (No. 23), and they 
stopped instantly. The shutter snapped, and I cared not then 
how quickly they fled. A year passed, and with a large camera 
— 8 by 10 — I again took the trail. Just where it comes across 
a sage-brush park and skirts some cedars, and then dives into 
the cedars, I select a place, and on looking up the trail behold 
a swarm of deer coming over the hill. I must hurry, or they 



24 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

will be here before I am ready. The tripod is up as quick as a 
wink, and the camera follows, the lens is attached, plate-holder 
inserted, and, just as I draw the slide, they come out right in 
front of me, within twenty-five yards. I stand behind the 
camera, utterly motionless until they have strung out across the 
view in front, then I whistle sharply. (No. 27.) They are 
at "attention" instantly. I hear the click of the shutter and 
know I have them. They look a moment or more, but do 
not suspect anything dangerous, so they walk on. 

Before the last of this bunch was out of sight, another small 
drove appeared, but farther from me. About the same num- 
ber were in this bunch, but I could not move without scaring 
the last of those which had just passed, so had to gaze at them 
until the last one vanished. I made three more exposures that 
day on deer, very close, but did not cover the camera when 
drawing the slides, so of course they were all ruined. The 
deer were now traveling very thick, so I stationed myself 
nearer camp where they crossed a deep gulch fringed with 
heavy sage-brush. This stand had one important drawback, 
namely, that the deer came directly against the wind, and in 
spite of my efforts to get far enough to one side, the greater 
number would scent danger and run back or pass around. 
For a short time, however, the wind was right for me, and a 
bunch coming in, I let them approach quite close. Some 
were down drinking at a spring when I exposed. (No. 
30.) The main part of the band was to the left of the view, 
so close that I could not shift the camera for fear of stamped- 
ing them, so I caught only part in the picture. 




Copyright, IWW, hy A. G. Wallihan. 



This time lie stood facing me.' 
iDeer 62) 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 25 

Anxious to try the 8 by 10 camera in Juniper Canon, we 
moved over and camped at its head. Right near camp one 
trail crossed, and I spent several nights trying to get flash-light 
photos of the deer in passage. I made several exposures, but 
only one was successful. (No. 43.) The night was intensely 
dark, and to sit on the rocks for hours, with no sound but that 
of the river or of an occasional owl, was a peculiar sensation. 
There were fresh mountain-lion tracks along the water's edge, 
and, indeed, I saw one — a monster — as I went down to the 
trail one morning about sunrise. He was across the river upon 
the hillside about a hundred yards distant, walking leisurely to 
his den, — a cave in the ledges, — where he disappeared for the 
day. It was necessary to keep very quiet while waiting for the 
deer, as they would come to the hilltop across the river and stop 
every few yards, listening for any sign of danger. Then when 
they reached the river, many would go down-stream too far to 
reach. One night it was moonlight, and two came across, 
headed straight for me. I made the flash, but on they came, 
evidently thinking it was lightning. They came within ten 
feet, when I moved, so they saw me, and then there was a great 
splashing of water. 

One night it was very dark, and I made a flash on a bunch 
in the river. I suppose it blinded them for a moment ; they 
turned back, and we could hear them running into brush and 
rocks in their stampede. During the day I spent my time 
down the canon on the main trail, and at length found myself 
right out among the rocks by the edge of the river. In front 
was a rock, taller than the rest, which I could not get out of 



26 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

the view without raising the camera so high as to be too con- 
spicuous. About six hundred yards above, at the top of the 
canon wall, ran the trail, and in a moment or so a small band 
came winding down to the river. All stopped to drink. 
Waiting until an immense buck had raised his head (No. 33), 
I exposed. After all had drunk, they walked up the river a 
hundred yards or more, but would not cross, finally going back 
up the trail two or three hundred yards. Another and larger 
band came down soon afterward, and the first bunch joined 
this one, but kept in the rear. Down they rushed, greedy 
to drink, and many were drinking when the big buck belong- 
ing to the first band, which was coming along behind and 
acting very suspicious, suddenly wheeled, and, with a snort, 
started back up the trail on the run, followed by the rest. One 
fawn, enjoying the first drink he had found for many a weary 
mile, was so startled that he jumped straight out into the river. 

One afternoon, after an all-day wait without result, I was 
thinking of going to camp, when a large herd came in sight. 
The deer were slow about coming down, and when they at 
last reached the river, right opposite, the shadow had begun to 
creep up the canon side, so they were out of the sunshine. I 
set the shutter as slow as I could for instantaneous work, and 
trusted to luck to get them — and did, in fact, secure a very 
good negative. (No. 34.) 

One day I was out on the rocks near the riverside when a 
few deer came down immediately opposite. I made the ex- 
posure, but it proved a failure. After they had walked along 







o «o 

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Si 

3 



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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 27 

the edge of the river a few yards, they returned and swam across 
very near to me, — within ten feet, in fact, — and landed close 
by, where they stood and shook themselves. I was standing, 
bent over, behind the camera all this time, not daring to move. 
The deer were never over one hundred and fifty feet from me 
after they first reached the river. I stood there until my back 
nearly cracked, when at last I stood erect and threw up my 
arms to scare them. They simply looked at me without any 
apparent alarm. For fully five minutes there they stood, within 
twenty-five feet of me, shaking off the water and licking them- 
selves. When the leader got ready, she started up the steep 
trail, and they were soon lost to view. 

Returning home, I spent a few days among the cedars, and 
secured one fine little snap-shot. I was right at the edge of 
the first cedars the deer would reach after crossing a great open 
sage-brush country forty miles in width. Here at last I saw a 
group of deer approaching. Hurriedly locating under a cedar 
tree, I had only a few minutes to wait. Luckily, some of the 
animals came by on the little trail I had chosen, and I caught 
them just as a spike-buck had cast his eyes upon me. (No. 40.) 
Among those that passed farther away were two large bucks 
with their horns in full velvet (it was the loth of October). 

A year later I was again watching in the cedars, near home, 
for the coming of the mule-deer. An old Indian lookout, in 
a big cedar where two trails joined, was selected; and as I had 
a brother visiting me, I placed him in the lookout with my 
rifle, while I shot them from below with the camera. I was 



28 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

to whistle and stop the deer when they were at the right place, 
and a second whistle was his signal to shoot. Fortune favored 
us, for a doe, fawn, and three bucks came suddenly from behind 
the cedars, and walked right to the proper place and stopped 
at my signal. (No. 44.) I promptly pressed the shutter bulb. 
The second signal was given, and my brother fired at the large 
buck with his head down, barely grazing him. The spike- 
buck stood looking toward us as if petrified. Again and again 
my brother fired, the buck still standing his ground. Finally 
I asked what was the matter up the tree, but the shooter said 
he did n't know. As soon as we began to talk the buck ran 
off. The gun was passed down to me, and I found that two 
cartridges (40.70 — long, straight shells with patched bullets) 
belonging to my wife's rifle had been placed in the magazine, 
and had failed to work. We had a good laugh over the affair, 
but decided to wait for the next herd, which soon came. A 
spike-buck was in the lead, and a big horned one next. After 
I made the snap my brother shot at the big one (No. 45), and 
struck a small cedar stump a few feet short and a little low, 
throwing splinters all over the game, and frightening him so 
badly that I think he is still running. 

Another year rolled around before the camera could again 
be trained on the deer. This time the gulch near the cedars 
at home was tried for several days. Finally a fairly large herd 
came right down over the bank into the gulch. A doe was 
in the lead, as is usually the case, the bucks preferring the rear 
of the herd, so that if any danger is met they will be able to 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 29 

get away, leaving the leaders to their own devices. When at 
the place where my camera was trained, they evidently sus- 
pected something, for they stopped, and one doe turned back. 
(No. ^^.'^ I waited no longer, but made the exposure. In 
another moment, thoroughly frightened, they turned and 
quickly disappeared up the gulch. 

Selecting a good place in the cedars, I tried again. From 
my location I could see deer approaching within about three 
hundred yards, but when they came nearer than fifty yards I 
had to hide myself more effectively, and could not move while 
they were passing. One fine day I saw a large band come 
over the hill on my trail, so hid myself and waited their ap- 
proach. Here they are, sixty feet away, stringing along — does, 
fawns — but where are the bucks? Big does, little does, lots 
of fawns pass by, until about fifty have passed. Ah ! here 
come a pair of horns ! Now he is just where I want him, and 
I whistle very faintly. He hears it and is not frightened, but 
stops short. (No. 56.) The shutter works noiselessly (its 
click at sixty feet will often cause a leap that is fatal to suc- 
cess) ; the others are moving on, so when he can see nothing 
to take alarm at he follows. And then up walks a monarch 
whose stately head would grace any hall, and I am compelled 
to let him pass without exposing, for I cannot move as much 
as a finger without frightening him off. After a time I saw 
more coming, off on a side trail that would not bring them to 
me; but, true to their eccentric habits, they meandered about 
until they came directly to the spot where I wished them. As 



30 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

I was using the telephoto lens, which is not instantaneous, I had 
to stop them, so gave a faint whistle. The leader was out of 
sight instantly, but an old doe, after turning about, looked back 
(No. 57) to see if there really was any danger. Then in an 
instant she also was gone. Transferring my camera, next day, to 
a sand ridge where the trail crossed, I waited but a short time 
before a spike-buck came over, but the others (for I knew 
there were quite a lot) failed to appear, and as I heard them 
jumping I imagined they were running away, or would at least 
go round me. So I exposed on this spike at thirty feet. 
(No. 58.) Then up walked several does and bucks, and at 
last a magnificent buck that stopped on the very spot I had 
wished for, and looked a long time at the camera. Then I 
was indeed disgusted; for if I had not taken the unimportant 
spike, I could have had this monarch. 

The following summer I went to the mountains, camping 
near the famous "Bear's Ears" peaks. By our camp ran a 
little stream which afforded us some fine trout, while the hills 
abounded with deer and a few elk. We came through a good 
sage-chicken country, and feasted on them as long as we could 
get them. I have yet to see the fish, flesh, or fowl that equals 
young sage-chicken when properly cooked. 

Riding out over the oak- and aspen-covered ridges one 
morning, we put up many bucks; but I had in view more 
promising country farther back. Suddenly there appeared 
before me, in the aspens, a spike-buck. Just as suddenly I 
stopped and raised a warning hand to my wife, who was fol- 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 31 

lowing. The deer and I stared at each other for several min- 
utes. Then he commenced eating, and at last lay down. I 
dismounted and quickly rigged up the camera, putting on the 
telephoto lens. When I was ready I whistled to him until 
he got up to look at me again. He was beautiful, standing 
amid the flowers and grasses under the aspens. (No. 61.) It 
was only then I noticed something wrong with his horn: it 
seemed to be turned right down across his face, and the nega- 
tive so proves it. Presently he walked out into some oak 
brush near by, and again lay down. I went as close as I 
dared and focussed sharply on the leaves right over him, and 
again induced him to get up. This time he stood facing me 
when I exposed. (No. 62.) He was in the red and his horns 
were in full velvet. After the exposure I walked toward him 
several steps before he ran off. Then I measured the distance 
from his bed to the camera, and found it to be only sixty-five 
feet. We rode on, but found no more work to do, so returned 
toward camp ; and in passing the same spot where I had caught 
the deer with the broken horn, I saw another deer about three 
hundred yards away, walking about in the parks in the aspens. 
I at once set up the camera and went towards him quietly. 
After watching awhile, I saw the tips of his horns move, and so 
located him. I approached as close as I dared risk, and, aiming 
the camera so that it would cover him when he rose, — for the 
telephoto lens gives but small field, — I whistled. He would 
turn his head, but would not rise until I threw a twig. At last 
by this means I got him on his feet. (No. 63.) I exposed the 



32 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

instant he rose, and caught a fine picture at the short distance 
of twenty-four steps. Going on towards camp, I got an exposure 
on two bucks in the aspens, but they are invisible except their 
heads. That finished our negatives for that trip. 

Once more I camped on the trail near home. I tried the 
cedars, the gulch, and the sand ridge, but fortune did not favor 
me until one morning when I moved ahead to another ridge 
and, after fixing the camera, walked to the top to look over. I 
heard steps close by on the other side, and returned to the 
camera just in time to turn it in the direction of the deer. I 
had no chance to raise it before a doe poked her head over. 
The others came up until they were all looking over (No. 67), 
and then at last I exposed. It was barely sunrise, and the glint 
of the morning light was on their eyes. They smelled my tracks 
where I had been when I heard them first, and, scenting dan- 
ger, retreated, but only across a gulch, where they lay down 
within two hundred yards of me. An hour or more later 
another band appeared, this time on the trail, and I allowed 
them to approach within thirty-five steps before calling them 
to "attention." (No. 68.) Even then they could see nothing 
to run from, so, turning off the trail a little, pursued their 
journey. 






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Copyright, 1899. by \. G. WalUhai 



'1 made exposures in different poses. 




CHAPTER II 

iNLY a few years ago northwestern Colorado 
was the home of countless herds of elk, while 
to-day but few are left, owing to the greed of 
man for the money which was to be made by 
killing them and selling their hides and meat. Many of them 
emigrated to Wyoming to join the Yellowstone Park herds. 
While they were still plentiful we rode out one day five or six 
miles from home, and in a short time found a band of six or 
seven hundred, and by much quiet work got a view of them at 
about two hundred and fifty yards. I spent many days and weeks 
trying to get other pictures, but with very poor success. While 
they would seem to have but little cunning, it will be found, 
when stalking is attempted, that they have selected the top of 
some hill that has no cover near by, or are on the lee side of 
a ridge, so that it is impossible to approach down wind. This 
applies to the open, rolling winter ranges. 

In March, 1899, Billy Hill and I started out one day on our 
long Norwegian skis to see if we could outwit some of the 
many bull elk we could see from our cabin near the head of 
Green River in Wyoming. But a short distance out we found 
a bull down in a little canon on Roaring Fork. Hill circled 
round him while I watched, and when he had reached the 

33 



34 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

opposite side he sent his dog "Boston" down to bay the elk, 
which he quickly did in a mixture of aspen, cottonwood, and 
spruce. I slid down into the gulch and, setting up the camera, 
got several views of him at close range. (Nos. i6, 17, 18.) 
A day or so later we climbed up on the mountain farther back, 
and bearing to the right along its crest a mile or more, 
came in sight of several bulls feeding along the rim of the 
mountain, where the winds had cleared the snow from the 
grass underneath. They were out in open ground, where 
approach was nearly impossible. Our only chance lay in 
climbing a ridge on the north and keeping on its farther side 
until we were beyond them. Even then the chances looked 
poor. However, up we climbed and got in the lee of the 
ridge, out of the bitter wind. Just at the far end we scared 
up two bulls lying in some aspens. They ran down into a 
little valley just below, where four more joined them. We 
tried to get to them, but could find no cover. The elk soon 
left the valley and crossed a ridge, we following. Pretty soon 
" Boston " winded the elk, and we sent him forward. They 
were in some thick spruces, but " Boston " soon had them 
moving, and after a short chase bayed one under another clump 
of spruce, where I obtained a negative. (No. 19.) Before I 
could get another, he broke away and ran out on the rim of 
the mountain, where he joined another bull. " Boston " had the 
two bayed by the time we came up. I could not get nearer 
than two hundred yards, so crept up behind a boulder and a 
little clump of aspens and made another exposure in an environ- 




Copyright. 1899. by A. G. WalUhan. 



A bull Elk at close range. 
(Elk 28) 



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m 

— c 

^3 




CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 35 

ment which is typical of them — out on a bleak, wind-swept 
ridge, defying the storms. (No. 20.) I watched them here 
with a telescope nearly every day all winter. 

Resting a day, we again took to our skis and slid up the 
river to Green River Lake. As we were proceeding quietly 
along on the edge of the lake, an old bull came down off the 
mountain side ahead of us. "Boston" quickly winded him and 
was sent forward, and after a short chase along the shore 
brought him to bay. Here I made three or four exposures in 
different poses. (Nos. 22 to 24.) Arriving at the head of the 
lake, we turned up Clear Creek, and had barely started before 
" Boston " had another fellow up and going. This one led us a 
merry chase, and we were pretty well blown when we at last 
overtook them. He was on a steep mountain side, standing 
under a spruce, and I finally got him to pose long enough to 
get a successful picture. (No. 25.) Then came the long, tire- 
some slide home, which was pleasantly interrupted by running 
across another bull, of which I made a fine negative. (No. 28.) 

We next planned to go across to the Gros Ventre, to a ranch 
where the elk were said to be very thick. This was a pretty 
long trip for me, especially as I carried an 8 by 10 camera and 
a dozen 8 by i o plates. We went down the river six miles to 
a cabin, where we stayed over night. Next morning was 
stormy, but we decided to go on, making the ranch in good 
season, although our shoes stuck a little. Next day I found I 
had burned my eyes with the snow glare, so we could not go 
out, and after this it snowed enough to keep us in for a week. 



36 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

Finally came a clear day, and we climbed the mountain on 
the right, and soon had about one hundred and fifty elk in 
sight. Presently they came to the end of their trail, and as 
the crust would not hold, could go no farther that way. Hill 
and Lloyd, the ranchman, then went around them, while I 
prepared to ambush them as they came back. Placing the 
camera under a spruce in the shade, I awaited them for nearly 
an hour before they came. When Hill got round they 
broke away and he had a long run to turn them. At last they 
came leisurely along, eating snow and looking back warily. 
Just as they began to go out of sight I caught them. (No. 29.) 
A cold breeze had sprung up, and I was nearly frozen, so we 
concluded to return to the ranch. Going along the ridge 
about a quarter of a mile, we came to a slope, down which 
we ran nearly half a mile; then, turning down a gulch, we rode 
clear on to the bottom of the valley below, about a mile, — the 
finest ski ride imaginable. 

After this followed several more days of inclement weather, 
but a change came at last and we again tried the elk. Climb- 
ing the mountain once more, we followed along the ridge, 
calculating to find good working material toward the end, a 
few miles below. On the way I obtained a negative of the 
last one of a small herd, on the rim of the ridge, just before 
she went out of sight. In the background of the picture, 
away beyond across Jackson's Hole, looms the majestic Grand 
Teton in all its glory. (No. 30.) We followed to the end of 




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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 37 

the ridge, but saw only a few elk as they crossed Bacon Creek, 
too far to photograph. Then came another glorious ride down 
the mountain to the valley, and the slide up the creek — home. 
The snow now began to stick during the middle of the day, 
so, after resting a day, we returned the next to the cabin on 
Green River, and thence home. 




CHAPTER III 

)URNING now to the antelope, we shall find 
him in a different country. He likes a flat 
landscape, open so that he may see his enemies 
a long way and use his best defense — his speed. 
He will, if need be, go through heavy timber if he can find 
parks beyond. High, rolling country, half park and half 
timber, will attract him, but his true home is the lower 
levels. Neither the deer, the elk, nor the much vaunted big- 
horn can compare with him in keenness of vision. His scent, 
on the contrary, is not so fine, nor is his hearing. Many times 
I have been balked, both in hunting and photographing, by his 
marvelous vision, when any other game would have been easy. 
Then, at times, especially where he has not been hunted much, 
he is very foolish and simple. His inquisitiveness often costs 
him his life. His meat, in the springtime, is very good ; the 
rest of the year it varies from very bad to good, according to 
the individual. He is harder to kill, according to his size and 
strength, than any of the other game, and furnishes magnificent 
sport as a running target. 

Antelope Springs is one of his headquarters. It is a bare 
place, not a tree to be seen anywhere, only the ever present 
sage-brush scattered here and there, — not thickly, for he does 

38 



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a- 
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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 39 

not like too much of it — it shuts out his grass and other food; 
besides, the coyote can get too close. It is a difficult camping- 
ground, — no timber, no water, except in the smaller gulches. 
However, the dead sage-brush is the best of fire-wood, and sage- 
hens, than which no barn-yard fowl is better meat, abound. 
The morning after our arrival we rose early, to find that as 
soon as it was light the antelope were coming to water in herds 
of all sizes. After breakfast they came right up to the tent, 
and I crawled to one corner carefully, and exposed on a buck 
that had approached to within forty yards (No. 17) to rec- 
onnoitre, — a large band, at a safe distance, awaiting the verdict. 
Soon they were coming, thick and fast, about the springs 
which seep from the gravelly rock in the gulch bottom. We 
worked down into the gulch and rapidly approached the 
springs, mindful of the wind. There was another spring, in 
the next gulch, about half a mile away, over a low hill, and 
the greater number seemed to be going to that. But a group 
of ten came right round behind, so that they could see the 
camera. I kept the camera turned upon them until they were 
outlined on a ridge against the sky, directly under the sun, about 
one hundred yards away, when I exposed. (No. 18.) The 
negative shows, in the foreground, some prickly-pear cactus, 
a lot of rabbitweed, a few sage-brush, and, on the ridge, the 
antelope. 

Next morning I went over to the other spring, and, finding 
a side gulch that came in near the water, pulled a quantity of 
green sage- and rabbit-brush and made a blind that the quarry's 



40 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

keen eyes could not see, nor even the coyote that trotted by. 
As he paused on the crest, I exposed on him for a second 
at forty yards. (No. 2.) Then he came down and drank his 
fill. After he had gone, three antelope came walking right out 
on the bank, and as they stood alert I caught them. (No. 19.) 

They are always cautious about approaching the water, as 
the coyotes lie in wait there for them. I have often seen a 
band chase a lone coyote away from the water, and then, sud- 
denly terrified, turn tail and allow the coyote to chase them. 

I climbed up a little above the camera, where I could ob- 
serve the hills and valley in all directions, and as I sat a bunch 
of antelope came right down the gulch to the water above 
me, and gradually worked down until almost in front, but 
turned out about forty yards above, and when on the top of the 
bank moved diagonally away from me. (No. 11.) As they 
would not come closer, I took them as they were. Then they 
moved around and came on the bank right in front, and stood 
eying my blind. Just then a badger came out of his hole in 
the bank, and I resolved to see if I could put in the next slide, 
turn the holder, pull the other slide, set the shutter, and so get 
the antelope and the badger in one and the same picture. 
The antelope stood and watched the motions behind the blind 
until I succeeded in making the exposure. (No. 14.) Then, 
at the click of the shutter, scampered away. 

The badger went down the gulch, then over the bank, I 
after him, hoping to come over quickly enough to catch him 
before he got too far away. He was very slow, so I got within 




ropyii^ht. leflC. I.V A. li, Wrvllihar 



As they would not come closer, I took them." 
(Antelope 1 1 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 41 

twenty feet and whistled, when he turned, and the snap was 
made. 

Another band of antelope came in, but they seemed to know 
where I was, for they drank at the upper end of the water, 
then went out on the bank, and snorted at me while I got a 
negative of them at sixty yards with the telephoto lens. (No. 
12.) I stayed until sunset, watching the play of the antelope 
as they came and went about the water, some below and some 
above my stand. Then the sage-hens commenced to flock in, 
some on the ground, but the greater number flying. They 
seemed to fear danger during the middle of the day, but early 
in the morning and late in the evening they flocked around by 
the thousands. The golden eagle is their most terrifying 
enemy. I found a jack-rabbit near the tent one day, and got 
within five feet of him; secured two negatives (Nos. i and 2), 
and then caught a snap-shot of him while running (No. 3). 

The following day I secured a picture of a buck and fawn 
at the same place, and then we bade adieu to the desert, and took 
our way to the haunts of other game. 




CHAPTER IV 

I HE bighorn, or mountain sheep, is credited by 
many writers as the keenest-eyed and wariest of 
Rocky Mountain game, but he is over-estimated. 
Few men know much concerning them, mainly 
because they are scarce, and also because they are hard to hunt. 
Most hunters dislike to own ignorance of any kind of game, 
so they either repeat some time-worn tale of the bighorn or 
invent one of their own. True, the mountain ram is watchful, 
for his existence depends upon that ; but he cannot see like the 
antelope, and in antelope or deer country would be an easy 
prey. His worst enemy, the mountain lion, keeps him con- 
stantly alert, as the boulders, gulches, and scattering timber of 
his range afford splendid cover for the merciless cougar. They 
are gradually becoming extinct. 

Accompanied by William Wells and Bert Hill, my wife and 
I left the head of Green River for Cliff Creek, one July day, 
with a pack outfit. The first day we made thirty miles, 
camping at Falers, in Fall River Basin. The second day we 
stopped on Cliff Creek to eat our noonday lunch, and while 
eating I caught sight of something on the mountain ahead of 
us, which we at first took to be an elk, but our glasses revealed 
an old silvertip bear and two cubs. We all had a good 




Copvricht, ls~l^*. I'v A. O. Wailiha 



" As they stood a bit I caught them.' 
(Antelope 19) 



> 

3 



O 
T3 




CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 43 

look at them before they disappeared over the summit. Trav- 
ehng on about four miles, we located camp about midway of 
the range, so I could work in either direction. Wells killed 
an elk about sunset, within four hundred yards of camp, so 
that I would not have to fire any shots to alarm the game. 
The following morning I brought in the meat, and Wells and 
Hill returned to Green River. The second day I went up 
the little creek, which came right out of the center of the 
range, taking my horse as far as I could and climbing the last 
part of the way, until I could go no farther for cliffs. I found 
so little sign that I knew the sheep were not working so low 
down. I had swept the range with my telescope the first 
morning in camp, and found six or eight sheep, among them 
a ram with a good head. I was now directly below the place 
where I had observed them, and just as I was about to return 
to my horse they again appeared and commenced feeding. I 
saw that I could not get up to them, so on the next day went 
to the north pass, where I found but little sign, but on my 
way home ran into some elk and made several exposures, all 
of which, on development, were failures. The next day I 
went to the south end of the mountain, taking my horse clear 
to the summit in order to get the camera up, calculating to 
leave it up there over night, as it was too hard work carrying 
it up every day. I was following an elk trail which led up at 
an easy slope, and had gained a clump of spruces, when eight 
or nine cow and calf elk came running down the steep moun- 
tain at top speed. They were seeking brush or shade farther 



44 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

down, to escape the big horse-flies. Continuing upward, I 
came to a little lake at the foot of the last climb. Before 
I had reached the summit I saw some objects come on top 
of a peak about a mile northward, and the telescope revealed 
them to be mountain sheep, among them three rams. They 
kept coming until I had counted over thirty, then grad- 
ually worked out of sight. Taking my horse up to the last 
tree, I tied her, shouldered the camera, and started along the 
crest of the ridge, which soon became very narrow. It was 
almost perpendicular on the west, and very precipitous on the 
east side, and in places only two or three feet wide. I was 
soon across this, and hurried along until I reached the hill 
where the sheep had been. The wind was in the west, so I 
looked over and found a pocket on the east side where the 
sheep were lying thickly as far as I could see. Right down 
from the peak ran a ridge to the east, behind which I must 
work, as I could not pass on account of the wind, which blew 
almost constantly. Dropping back a few yards, I soon worked 
down behind the ridge, but the shaly limestone required very 
slow, careful work to prevent a fall. Crawling out to the 
edge, I made a thorough search to see how many there were 
and what could be done, and found I could go no farther, but 
must let them come to me. Ere long they were all up and 
feeding, and I counted fifty-six. When they had worked 
within about two hundred yards, I exposed a plate with the 
telephoto lens on the thickest part of the herd, and covered 
thirty-six. (No. 2.) They were all feeding, so their heads 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 45 

were down, and I reasoned that if I alarmed them they would 
leave and be harder to get at, so resolved to keep out of sight 
and work on them there as long as I could. I made five ex- 
posures in all, but only the one showed them well. After an 
hour or more they gradually fed right round beneath me and 
within seventy-five yards, but I could not get the camera 
pointed down quick enough to catch the rams as they passed, 
and the two plates exposed were not good. So I carefully 
slipped away and left them feeding. About half a mile back 
I came to a big elk trail, and left my camera there, taking 
only the plate-holders to camp to change. I returned to 
camp, much elated at my supposed success, as I had been told 
for years that I could not get photographs of mountain sheep. 
The next morning I rode to the foot of the range, picketed 
the horse, and started up the elk trail. It was very steep, but 
good footing, and in half an hour I was getting pretty well up 
when I saw, down below me, two rams looking in my direc- 
tion. I remained motionless until they seemed at ease, then 
moved along, keeping out of sight, and, when I could, watch- 
ing them. When they were hidden I moved on toward the 
camera. Thinking that perhaps they would follow the trail, I 
picked up the camera when I reached it, and moved on to a 
good lookout and watched for them. Could I have gone 
where I wished, they would have come right to me; but the 
wind drove me to another place, so they were three hundred 
yards from me when they reached the top. They quickly 
passed, climbing the hill west of the pass and going out of 



46 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

sight. Taking but one plate-holder, as the climb was hard, I 
followed, and, on reaching the top, saw them lying down. 
Keeping under the edge of the hilltop, I could work to the 
right until under cover of some trees, and then from clump to 
clump until I was near them. The wind was now blowing a 
gale, so that they could not hear me. Presently I found that I 
could not pass either side of a clump of dwarf, stunted spruce 
without being seen; so, taking my pocket knife, I cut my way 
through the clump and went on up to the next one, which 
was directly in line with the one I had cut through. I was now 
within a hundred yards, and had to use great caution, as the 
larger ram was very uneasy and watchful. I worked on to 
another cover of spruce, and found I was something like sixty 
yards from them and could go no farther. So, carefully raising 
the camera, I aimed it over the top. The big ram was stand- 
ing nibbling at some herbage when I exposed. On account 
of the wind, I gave too short an exposure, and had the camera 
pointed too high. Lowering the camera, I turned the plate- 
holder, and when next it was aimed the ram was standing 
with his head from me and evidently alarmed (No. 5), so I 
exposed again. This time the camera was aimed high, but 
cut off only his feet at the bottom of the plate. The ram 
lay down then, and I debated whether to go after the rest of 
my plates or not; but just as I decided to go the quarry took 
alarm and disappeared around some cliffs where I could not fol- 
low. So I returned to the trail and to camp. 

Later I worked the pocket where I saw the big bunch, but 




^..-N?^, > 







Ti*', 




Antelope crossing a dry gulch. 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 47 

they were scattered and I could get no more exposures. At 
the other end of the range I found two ewes and a yearling 
feeding right down underneath me as I looked off a cliff. I 
made an exposure on them, but the plate broke on the way 
home. The work was extremely hard, the 8 by 10 camera 
very heavy, and often I would reach camp utterly exhausted. 
Circumstances compelled our return to Green River without 
further result. On this range I saw, one day, deer, elk, and 
mountain sheep, all within a mile of one another. 

Out on a ledge near the top of a high cliff the golden eagle 
builds a nest of sticks — here mostly sage-brush, which is used 
year after year. Usually they lay two eggs, but occasionally 
three. 

Several miles from my home was a nest very near the summit 
of the cliff, just within reach from the top. I went there 
several times to get a picture of the old hen bird. Twice I 
had good chances, but one one-hundredth second was too slow, 
so I tried one two-hundred-and-fiftieth, and finally one five-hun- 
dredth second, and the result was almost perfect. The eagle 
went down off the nest, as there was no wind to raise her, so 
the view is of her back. 

Rattlesnakes are not the kind of companions chosen by many, 
but they are met with frequently in certain parts of the West, 
and many times at the wrong moment. On Spring Creek 
there is a veritable den of them in a rocky hillside. The first 
one we found was near a cactus, so I had my companions try 
to keep him near it while I prepared the camera. The snake 



48 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

finally concluded it could not get away, so turned, and crawling 
slowly into a hollow in the cactus, coiled itself ready to strike. 
(No. 2.) I was much surprised at this, bearing in mind the 
tales of the road-runner, or chaparral-cock, with his fence of 
cactus. After despatching this snake, we proceeded probably 
three hundred yards before finding a second. Before I could 
expose on this, another one was found, and while one guarded 
them, search was made for more, until seven were gathered, 
when I made a group exposure on them at something like 
three feet distance. (No. 3.) 

The snowshoe-rabbit inhabits the timbered country of the 
Rocky Mountain ranges, preferring spruce timber to pine; 
but so far as my observation goes, only in the higher parts. 
He is, in size, midway between the cottontail and the jack- 
rabbit, and is a comparatively clumsy animal. His feet are 
capable of a wider spread than those of the others, allowing 
him to run over lighter snow. In summer they are a blue- 
gray, the fur far more beautiful than that of his brothers, his 
feet retaining their winter whiteness. In the fall they turn 
to a snowy whiteness — so white as to be almost invisible. 
Companions of mine have declared that I was absolutely mis- 
taken when trying to show them a snowshoe-rabbit on the 
snow at a few feet distance, until a shot from my revolver 
would prove their error. While in Wyoming I secured two 
negatives of them, but neither in the winter coat (Nos. i and 2). 

In Wyoming, on Cottonwood Creek, I found plenty of ducks, 
and by some patient and careful work caught one on a sand- 




c 



c 



o 
an 



c 
3 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 49 

bar, with his head tucked under his wing. As I carefully 
crawled out from behind some willows, with the camera held 
ready, the duck waked and started for the water instantly; 
so, just as it reached the edge, I snapped, catching two ducks 
— the real and the reflection. (No. i.) Shortly afterward I 
came out on the bank, right over a family that I caught 
swimming. (No. 2.) 

I have found the prairie-dog the hardest to catch of any- 
thing I have attempted. The nearness required for anything 
so small is the great trouble. Without a camera, they allow 
me to approach very close; but, like the Indian, they draw the 
line at the instrument. 




CHAPTER V 

3T was snowing bitterly as I rode out of Meeker 
late in December, '94; but I cared little for that, 
as it would give good tracking, and Wells had 
written that the lions were thick, so I was anx- 
ious to join him and hear the music of the hounds once 
more. Besides, I had a new, quick lens and a new 8 by i o 
camera, both of which I was in a hurry to try on the lions. 

Before I had ridden many miles the storm had passed by, 
and when I rode up to Wells's camp on Dry Fork, a branch of 
Pice-ance Creek, it was fine and looked good for the morrow. 
Wells met me with a cheery welcome, and we were soon stow- 
ing away a good camp supper which he had prepared. The 
cabin in which he was living was about fifteen feet square, and 
when he and Patterson, his partner, and Frank Wells, his 
brother, and myself were bedded down on the floor, in company 
with two or three guests, there was very little spare room. A 
cook-stove occupied one corner, together with the table and 
some boxes for seats and the necessary provisions. One win- 
dow was missing, so some sheeting was tacked across it. Plenty 
of fat pinon wood within two hundred yards, and a little creek 
about forty yards away, insured fire and water, while the sur- 
rounding hills literally swarmed with deer. Patterson, or 

50 




Copyright, by A. G. Wallihan. 

The Eagle went down off the nest, so the view is of her bacli. 




\ 



'\ 




•iJl.TTi-tit, lij A C. Wjlliliri 




Copjricbt by A 0, Wollibao. 



Two views of Snow-Shoe Rabbit in summer coat. 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 51 

" Pat," as every one knows him best, and Frank came in soon, 
and next morning we started out under as clear a sky as could 
be wished for. The hounds were coupled in pairs and crazy 
for a run. " Speckle " and " Spot," the old stand-bys; " Sport," 
the tree-climber; "Mike," also a good climber; "Music" 
and "Talk" and " Nixey " comprised the hounds; while 
" Hector," part staghound and part shepherd, — the fastest of 
the pack, and as such nearly always obliged to tackle the lion 
on a run, — closely seconded by " Tucker," Pat's big brown 
shepherd, " Gypsy," and " Ajax," made up the crew. Three 
or four miles up the gulch we climbed out on the left side, and 
a short way up the hill found a lion track made early the past 
night. " Speckle " and " Spot " were turned loose ; the 
younger hounds were kept back till the trail should be fresher. 
We hurried after, and only overtook them at a place where they 
had been balked by a band of horses crossing and recrossing 
the trail, completely obliterating it. The dogs took the back 
trail, and Wells had a good chase to get them. Meantime, 
Pat crossed the horse trails, and, finding the lion trail, blew 
his horn for me to follow him. The lion was now up on a 
hilltop where it was open, except where a fire had killed the 
piiion timber and the winds had blown it down. I noticed 
that the lion turned off to the right, evidently towards a deer ; 
but as Pat was going straight ahead, I followed him. Fifty 
yards farther the lion track intersected our line again, but he 
was dragging something now, and this was nearly sure to mean 
that he would be close by the carcass when we found it. I 



52 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

noticed one place where, for about twenty feet, the lion had 
carried the deer clear of the snow, leaving not a sign but its 
own tracks. A little way ahead the track led to the edge of 
the hill, and here I overtook Pat, who had dismounted, and 
walked out and looked down and caught a glimpse of the lion 
running away. He went down a few yards and found a spike- 
buck and the tracks of the lion running off. Wells came up 
just then, and the whole outfit of dogs caught the fresh scent, 
and away they all went, making noise enough to terrify any- 
thing. They did not go over a quarter of a mile before 
" Hector" had the lion treed. It proved to be a female; she 
was in a spruce tree on a steep hillside, so by getting on the 
upper side I could get nearly on a level with her. She was 
resting very quietly about thirty feet up, and I put on an eight- 
een-inch focus lens and took her portrait at about thirty-five 
feet. (No. 3.) The snow lay on the boughs just as it had 
fallen, and made a beautiful picture as we looked at her. The 
dogs began climbing, and presently she crawled out on a limb 
on the lower side of the tree, and I went down to get a run- 
ning picture as she came by. Wells scared her out, and she 
jumped just as far out and down as she could, — we estimated 
it to be one hundred feet, — striking with such force as to roll 
and slide quite a way before she could rise. The dogs and 
she went by so fast and close that I thought it useless to try 
them. They caught her in the gulch a few yards below me, and 
I made an exposure when they had her stretched in the gulch, 
with Pat included in the view. (No. 4.) The dogs soon had 



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D. 

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pr 



^^^^^^^E^^ '^^^H 




^^^^^^^IB*^^^" i^l 


K 








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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 53 

her helpless, so she was despatched with a revolver shot, and 
taking her pelt, we went up and helped " Sport " and " Mike " 
down from the spruce tree up which they had climbed. A 
week later saw us riding down the creek to a point where 
we could climb out on the north side. Both sides of the 
gulch were steep, but the north side was an almost impassa- 
ble cliff, there being but few places where it was possible 
to get out, thus making an admirable home for the lions. 
They would come to the cliffs to lie down during the 
daytime and hunt back on top at night. Down at the 
G — H ranch we turned up the road of the same name, which 
was fearfully steep. Just on top we found a lion track, 
but it was too old to put the dogs on, so we followed back 
along the ridge towards camp. When nearly opposite camp 
we came upon the carcass of a buck deer which was entirely 
eaten, the bones alone remaining. Here there were fresher 
tracks, and Pat circled a little to see which way the game had 
gone out. We had barely started after him when the dogs 
broke away and were off — hounds, shepherds, and all, coupled 
and uncoupled, alike. Fifty yards ahead we found the reason 
for their stampede. There, under a spreading pinon tree, was 
a fresh deer carcass, only partially eaten, and leading from it 
were the telltale jumps in the snow showing where the lion 
had run as it heard our approach. After the dogs we went 
pell-mell, but the race was only a quarter of a mile ere she 
treed. Before we could reach the place, she jumped from the 
first tree and " Tucker " caught her tail. This checked her. 



54 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 



so she ran only a few yards to the next tree, where she was 
forced to cHmb again. The camera was rapidly set up, and 
using the eighteen-inch-focus lens again, I caught her face 
framed in pinon boughs as she thrust her head out to watch us. 
(No. 5.) Then I put on the quick lens and took a snap-shot 
as she ran by. She treed within fifty yards, and some of the 
dogs climbed after her. Before I could change to the long- 
focus lens, a drunken cowboy came along the trail and wanted 
to chase her out and rope her, and so I took a snap-shot at 
long range (No. 6), as there was a gulch between and the 
only good view was from across this. Then at last she came 
out of the tree and down into the gulch, where the dogs 
caught and finished her. 

Two days later we found the trail of a big lion, and, as it was 
quite fresh, the dogs were turned loose. But in their hurry 
they overran the trail, and some deer ran out ahead of them, 
whose trail they took, in spite of all our efforts. Hardy and I 
stayed by the lion trail, while Wells and Pat went after the 
dogs. When found, they had bayed a big buck, and in the 
fight that ensued "Speckle" received an injury that laid him 
up for nearly a month. When Wells got back we waited for 
Pat awhile, but could hear nothing of his horn, so put the 
hounds on the lion trail again, and in five minutes had him 
treed. Two of the dogs were still coupled, and Wells, fearing 
they would get the worst of it in a fight, ran right in under the 
tree, within ten feet of the lion, to uncouple them. The lion 
jumped at this, ran about three hundred yards, and bayed on top 



> 

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o 

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3 

on 




CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 



55 



of a cliff. He would have made a grand picture thus, but saw 
us peering from behind some trees, and turned and sprang off 
the cliff thirty or forty feet. The dogs had to run along the top 
for some distance before they dared jump to a lower place, and 
the lion got quite a start. We stood on the cliff and watched 
him run down hill to the bottom of the gulch, about seventy- 
five yards, and work up to the top of the hill on the other side. 
"Hector" overtook him just before he reached the top, but 
would not attack ; so they went on side by side, only about six 
feet apart, to a big pinon tree, up which the lion sprang. 

When we reached the tree I found that it was so thick I 
could not get a clear view, so planned to drive him back down 
into the gulch and catch him running. Wells and Hardy 
clubbed and snowballed him for a long time, but without 
effect. Wells was at length obliged to shoot off the limb he 
clung to, and that brought him quickly to terms. His speed 
was too great for me to snap as he passed, but the dogs soon 
caught him in the gulch. 

Now, I confess, I was a little nervous, waiting down there, 
alone and unarmed ; for he had shown signs of ugliness, and we 
had only part of the dogs, on account of Pat's absence. How- 
ever, I was willing to risk the danger for the sake of the pic- 
ture. When the dogs bayed him I rushed up close and took 
a snap-shot, but he was backed up in the shadow, so that the 
negative was poor. I ran back a few yards. Wells helped me 
turn the plate-holder, and I tried for a second picture. Just 
then he made a charge out at me, and I need hardly say that 



56 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

I retreated in disorder. " Hector " very quickly caught him, and 
the rest helped, so I ran up close and caught them fighting. 
(No. 9.) Hardy had got around opposite me, and Wells 
had closed up when the lion charged me, so I caught them 
both at "ready." Wells then concluded to stop the fight, so 
told Hardy to kill the lion, which he did. 

Pat came up a little later, so I grouped the three and part 
of the dogs back of the lion, and snapped them. (No. 10.) This 
lion was about the largest I ever saw, measuring seven feet five 
inches from tip to tip before skinning. I think his hide, 
stretched, would have measured ten feet easily. He was thirty- 
one inches high at shoulder, thirty-three inches girth just back 
of fore legs, thirty-six inches girth at center of body, and 
twenty-five inches at flank ; the forehead was six inches between 
his ears, the girth of the neck eighteen inches, and around his 
fore leg thirteen inches ; his tail formed one third of his length. 




Copvriclit, Isa'i.^T \ 



Her face framed in piiion boughs." 
(Cougar 5) 




CHAPTER VI 

)HE dogs being more or less crippled from the 
fight with the lion and the buck, we were lay- 
ing off a day, which Hardy took advantage of to 
hunt deer in the afternoon. He had not been 
gone long before we saw him returning in apparent haste, and, 
surmising that he had found a lion track near camp, we were 
watching him, when his horse turned acrobat and both landed 
in the snow. He came on and informed us that he had found 
a track a short distance up Dark Canon. As it was one of the 
brightest of Colorado days, we quickly decided to try and get 
the lion. So we hurriedly saddled and rode up to the track. 
At first we thought it a wolf, but on following a short dis- 
tance, a change in the snow enabled us to tell that it was a 
lion; so the hounds were uncoupled. "Speckle," the re- 
liable, was left in camp, as he had been too badly hurt the day 
before to go ; so "Spot" was put in the lead, and away they went 
up the hill to the west, while we followed as fast as possible. 
We had hardly got started, it seemed, before the dogs were 
balked by a piece of bare ground to which the trail led. Pat- 
terson went across afoot and found where the lion had left it ; 
so when the dogs were once more gathered — for they were 
working hard to find the trail — they were put on, and we 

57 



58 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

soon had the lion up, and after a very short run she treed. 
We approached cautiously, and stopped behind some trees, 
out of sight. The camera was quickly made ready, and I 
moved up behind a small tree until very close. Carefully I 
looked around this tree until I discovered the great cat sitting 
up, apparently indifferent, in a tall cedar just in front. She 
had not discovered us yet, and as she was in good position, I 
stepped out and, turning the camera up, snapped it on her. 
She saw me the instant I moved, and so was looking right 
down at me. (No. ii.) In a moment she jumped, but ran 
only a hundred yards or so and treed again. This time I 
thought I would try a running picture; so, going up carefully 
behind another convenient tree, I kept out of sight while Wells 
and Patterson made a detour and came up opposite and threw 
a club at her, when she jumped out on my side and ran by 
within ten feet. She was too close, for the plate, when devel- 
oped, showed only a blurred streak. She treed again, very 
close, and I tried again for a running picture, but she did not 
come just right. She treed a fourth time, close again, and 
Wells reconnoitered and reported it a good place for a jumping 
picture, for which we were watching. I went round to the 
side next the sun, which, fortunately, was open, and a little 
cedar gave me the chance to approach just right without being 
seen. The others approached on the opposite side as close as 
was prudent, until my signal that I was ready, when they came 
up noisily, one of them throwing a club into the tree, which 
started her. The ground sloped downward toward me from 




Q^^-Mza!yy<Z{>z^y^^Lee€^- /!(Mc^ ^z^ 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 59 

the tree she was in, and she stepped out to the edge as far as 
she could before leaping. At the instant she started, I stepped 
out from behind the cedar, and had just got in the open when 
she leaped almost directly at me. Just as she cleared the tree, 
so that she would show against the sky, I snapped, and, luckily, 
caught her perfectly. (No. 12.) She took ground within six 
feet of me. 

Bedlam broke loose just then, all the dogs taking after her, 
making all the noise they could, while I voiced an exultant 
yell that would have done credit to an Apache. As Wells 
came up I told him that snap-shot would never be beaten. 
She ran out into an open patch of ground, but did not get over 
two hundred yards before there was a great commotion, and 
we knew that "Hector" had pursued his usual staghound trick 
of throwing his quarry. In a few seconds there arose a mingling 
of growls, barks, and yells which indicated a grand fight ; and 
the way we went down that hill I shall never forget. As we 
approached. Wells helped me and I put in the slide, turned 
the plate-holder, and drew the other slide, and, setting the 
shutter, approached closer for a snap at the fighters. (No. 13.) 
Hardy got into close quarters and had to run out on the op- 
posite side just as I approached. Seeing a good chance, I 
snapped again, then had to "retreat with honor." The dogs 
soon got the best of her, and in a few moments had killed her. 
Wells and Patterson both told me they would not care to have 
her come quite so close as she had done in the leap, my only 
weapon being a pocket knife. I have since made several at- 



6o CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

tempts to get leaping pictures, but they were all failures. Next 
morning I gathered the faithful cripples into a forlorn-looking 
group, and photographed them, as well as the scene at camp, 
showing the lions and deer, all hanging on a rack (No. 14); 
and I caught Pat and Hardy in the act of hanging up one deer 
(No. 15), while Wells and his brother Rob are skinning another. 

Our next successful hunt was about a week later, when we 
found the track of a young lion, about three quarters grown, 
just over the ridge from where we had killed the last one. 
We had quite a time getting the trail straightened out, as the 
cub had killed a fawn deer and had fed on it for a day or 
more when we found it, and had tracked the scent all about 
the place. I followed his track up to where he had leaped 
over a bush upon the fawn's back and brought it down. The 
snow showed but few struggles on the part of the fawn. 
Some one found a fresh track, and in a few minutes the dogs 
had the cub up a tree. It was a cedar which grew at the 
foot of a ledge of rocks, so that when I crept up behind a 
pinon which grew on top of the ledge, camera in hand, I was 
only fifteen feet from the lion. Quickly I slipped out into 
clear view and snapped on him. (No. 16.) As he saw me he 
jumped down among the dogs, who barely missed catching 
him before he climbed again, about fifty yards below. We 
could not drive him out of this tree, so killed him where he 
was. 

We now had to wait for a fresh fall of snow, as it was al- 
most impossible to trail anything. The south hillsides were 




ropTTiFht.ireT.^y A. n Waiiihn 



A very wild female. With much care 1 was able to get a view of her head." 

(Cougar 21) 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 6i 

getting bare, and in this country a hound is helpless on dry 
ground. We had but a short time to wait, and soon found a 
big track about noon. We came upon two deer carcasses, eaten 
up clean and abandoned, while following this. A mile away the 
dogs ceased baying, and set up their "treed" bark. This lion 
proved to be a short, chunky specimen, very fat, and gorged 
with deer meat. He went quite up to the top of the second 
tree, after the boys drove him out toward me from the first 
one. He jumped well, but it was in the shadow of the tree, 
and too dark for a quick snap, so I waited and snapped as he 
ran away, but the snow he threw up hid all but his ears and 
tail. He was so full that he ran but a little way. On this 
occasion "Sport" now distinguished himself. The tree forked 
near the ground, the lion going up the large fork, while 
"Sport" took the small one. He went as high as he could 
go, then stood barking at the lion about five or six feet away. 
(No. 17.) The game would occasionally make a ferocious 
dash at him, spitting and growling the while, but could not 
quite reach him. Pat stood just below me, with his rifle 
ready to kill when I snapped the shutter. His cap and the 
muzzle of the gun show in the picture. I then went on the 
lower side to try and get a jumping or running picture, but 
the lion could not be induced to come out even when Pat 
shot him through the paw. Pat shot him again, and this 
time he fell. The dogs grabbed him instantly and dragged 
him down close to me, while Pat and Wells ran in close to 
finish him if he should get a bad hold of any dog. It was un- 



62 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

necessary, however, as the whole pack was upon him, excepting 
"Sport." They had him stretched out (No. i8) when I 
snapped. Two cowboys who had accompanied us this day 
were just coming under the tree when "Sport" fell in the 
snow beside them. They thought it was another lion, and 
came near stampeding. 

I went up to the deer carcass, which the lion had covered 
completely with snow, and traced out the scene of the killing. 
The deer was lying under a tree, and the lion had crept right 
up over open ground to spring. The deer had never risen 
from his bed, but was killed as he lay. 

The following winter Wells and I hunted faithfully for six 
weeks, but never found so much as a good track. 

New Year's day, 1897, found me again at Wells's camp, 
awaiting his return from Meeker, whither he had gone to have 
a grand lion hunt with the Meeker boys and John Goff's pack 
of hounds. Wells had arranged to carry the camera and plate- 
holders on a pack-horse, instead of slung over our shoulders as 
heretofore, and this was much more comfortable, if not quite 
so quick. The first lion was treed in a dark, shady place in a 
pinon tree. These trees are scrubby and have limbs from the 
ground up, which gave " Sport " and the other dogs their oppor- 
tunity to climb. "Sport" did climb and stood on the opposite 
side of the tree trunk from this lion, but not close enough to 
attack. The lion was backed out on a limb, with his face to- 
ward the trunk, and " Sport " passed around the tree, between the 
lion and the tree, his tail actually slapping the lion in the face. 




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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 63 

The lion caught his claws in the hide of "Sport's" back, and 
Wells held his rifle on the lion, ready to kill, but he finally re- 
leased the dog and "Sport" passed on. I had a slow lens on the 
camera and could not get a snap of this, and doubt if the 
negative would have been good, as the place was quite shady. 
My time pictures here were under-exposed. 

Our next lion was a cub which "Hector " and " Ajax" killed 
when it fell from the tree in which we found it. Going home 
the same night. Wells killed a female lion, and two days later 
we found the trail of a big one and soon had him treed. He 
was in a bad tree, so Wells drove him out and he treed again 
about a hundred yards away. Here he was in no better place, 
so we drove him again. He ran down across a gulch, and just 
before he reached a tree on the other side "Hector" caught 
him, and they tumbled back into the gulch. "Ajax" and 
"Talk" and "Nixey " fell to, and there was a hard fight for a 
few moments. Wells, fearing that so few dogs might get the 
worst of the fray, ran down the hill and up the gulch, while I 
was hurrying as fast as possible; carrying the camera, ready for 
exposures ; but I could not get there in time, as Wells shot the 
lion when he was close enough. The lion had charged him 
at twenty feet. He said the lion's eyes were green and his 
ears were laid back, his fangs and claws showing, and, altogether, 
he was not a pretty sight, and as he spoke I noticed that his 
hands were shaking. 

The next lion we found was a very wild female. Every time 
we approached to within forty or fifty yards of the tree she was 



64 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

in, out she would spring to another, and "Hector" had his fill 
of chases that day. After three or four of these rushes she was 
panting like a winded horse. With much care I was able to 
get a view of her head over the boughs in the top of a low 
pinon (No. 21 ), and another where she was sprawled from limb 
to limb in about as awkward a pose as she could get (No. 22). 
Wells shot her while in this tree. 

We began to think the fates were against us, as we had killed 
four lions without catching a single good negative. In the 
face of this, we resolved to take only two hounds out. Two 
dogs alone will not attack a lion, should they catch him on the 
ground, but will simply bay him. It was a week or more be- 
fore the snow was good again. Then, one afternoon, I found 
the trail of a big lion not far from camp; and taking "Speckle" 
and "Nix," I had the lion treed in less than ten minutes. This 
lion jumped out of the first tree as we came up, but ran only 
about a hundred yards. Here I took a face view with a tele- 
photo lens at thirty feet (No. 23), then a broad side view at 
twenty-five feet (No. 24); then we drove him out over the hill 
and down into a gulch. We could hear the dogs barking be- 
low us, and, finally, could see them. The lion had bayed on 
the ground, backing up against a little ledge not over four feet 
high. When we approached he sprang into the nearest tree, 
about fifty yards away. Here I used my remaining four plates, 
getting two excellent views at about twenty-five feet (Nos. 25 
and 26). We tried our best to drive him out, but without suc- 
cess. Once or twice I approached within twenty feet, but he 




lyriglit, IS'JT, Ijj A, G. Wnlhhan. 



"With a tele-photo lens at thirty feet." 
(Cougar 23) 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 65 

made ready to spring at me, so I retreated, even though I car- 
ried a forty-five Colt revolver. 

In the end we concluded to let this lion go and chase him 
on the morrow with six more plates. So Wells called off 
" Speckle " and " Nix " and went for the horses, while I picked up 
the camera and went on down the gulch until out of sight. 
Then cautiously I returned to see what the lion would do. In 
about five minutes he came leisurely down from the tree and 
walked off, looking neither to right nor left while he was in 
sight. 

The next morning we were joined by a young ranchman as 
we rode down the creek to pick up the trail. It led down 
into Pice-ance Creek and across and up a steep hill on the 
west. Thence it followed on across some bare ground, but 
we soon circled that and picked it up where it led up to the 
top of the mountain. After a mile or two it became apparent 
that the game had turned down on the north side, facing 
White River, and soon the dogs had him running. He proved 
to be lazy, however, and almost at once took to a tree. We 
tied our horses, except the pack-horse, which we led down. 
The lion jumped before we reached the tree, but went only a 
little way. I tried once for a jumping picture, but failed. 
Wells had brought his fifty-caliber Winchester, so when we 
wanted to drive the lion, all he had to do was to shoot off the 
limb or part of the tree he was in, and down he came. We 
finally got him bayed on the ground, and I caught two very 
vicious-looking views of him (Nos. 27 and 28), going as close 



66 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

as I dared. Suddenly he turned and disappeared over the edge 
of the gulch. We rushed out, but could see no sign of where 
he had gone until Wells went down into the gulch and found 
there was a little cliff there, and the lion had crawled around 
in a crevice and was lying there very quietly. I took the 
camera down in the gulch, and, putting on the telephoto lens, 
took a farewell view of the game as it lay panting in the rocks. 
(No. 29.) It was now so near night that we killed him and 
climbed back to our saddle-horses and rode away home. We 
noticed some tracks on this mountain, so, two or three days 
later, we rode in there and about noon found a fresh trail lead- 
ing away southward. We now had four hounds, "Speckle" and 
" Nix," " Sport " and " Talk," and all were getting to work finely. 
We trailed several miles until night came on, so called the dogs 
off and rode back to camp. In the morning two friends accom- 
panied us to the trail, which still led straight away, and we 
rode as rapidly as the dogs could go. Much of the time the 
trail led through open sage-brush parks in the cedar and pinon 
timber, and we could keep right up with the dogs, who were 
working magnificently. Finally we found the carcass of a 
fawn which the lion had eaten the night before, leaving noth- 
ing but the hide and bones, which he had buried in the snow. 
A little way from here the tracks became very hard for the 
dogs to follow, on account of the melting of the snow, and we 
were helping the dogs all we could when "Sport" suddenly 
broke out, and away they all went like a cyclone. The lion must 
have lain close until we were within sixty yards before "Sport" 



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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 67 

started him. We had an exciting chase, the lion doubling two 
or three times, but it was only a short time until he treed. I 
made a trial for another leaping picture, but through my own 
fault missed a good chance. The lion was so tired now that 
he went only about a quarter of a mile, but did not tree. 
When the dogs overtook him, he must have caught one in his 
claws, for we could hear a most terrific yelping. Wells 
mounted his horse, and hurried on, while we packed the camera 
and followed as quickly as we could. When we came up 
the lion was bayed on the ground, so I set the focus for thirty 
feet and walked up within that distance and took a snap. (No. 
30.) Then I went round to get a different view, but the lion 
ran to the next tree. Here I approached within fifteen feet 
and took my last snap. (No. 31.) I had made ready for 
another, but as the lion started off the dogs all seized him and 
pulled him down. He caught "Speckle" and would almost 
certainly have killed him had not Wells run up and put an 
end to the fight. Thus closed some of the most interesting 
and thrilling episodes of my life. It was, likewise, the last 
run of "Talk" and "Nix," for the next day they ate some 
poisoned coyote baits and died. 

After we had finished the lion hunt in January, 1895, Wells 
accompanied me to my home at Lay, where wildcats [Lynx 
rufus\ were quite plentiful, and where there were no deer to 
trouble our dogs and draw them from the trail. The tracking 
was fine and cats plenty ; so, after developing the lion negatives, 
we rode out into the cedars after cats. We let the dogs range 



68 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

free, and we had scarcely got started through the first cedars 
before "Music" had a cat up and going. After a short run we 
all brought up at a hole in the bank, where "bobby" had 
taken refuge. There was no getting him out, so we barri- 
caded his door and went on. Another was soon found and 
gave us a pretty good run, circling round and round the cedars, 
which were not over one half mile in diameter. Eventually 
he climbed a good tree on a hillside, so that I could get on 
the upper side of the tree and be nearly on a level with him. 
After I took a snap at him at about twenty-three feet (No. 2), 
we drove him out and the dogs had another short run. At 
this tree I got within fifteen feet (No. 3), according to the 
focussing scale on my camera. I used the eighteen-inch focus 
lens, which was the back lens of a rectigraphic, and is composed 
of three lenses. We chased him out again, and at the next 
tree I fixed for a jumping picture, but he went out so far around 
from me as to be out of sight ; however, I caught him run- 
ning (No. 4), with "Hector" a close second. In the upper 
left-hand corner you can see the snow in the air that he 
knocked off the tree in jumping out, and the trails the dogs 
made running through the snow are also shown. When 
he next treed we could not see him, so drove him out again. 
This time he made a sharp double on the dogs, and they all 
overran but one. Then he came back close to Wells and me, 
and stopped under a cedar, the limbs of which grew out near 
the ground. When "Jeff" — one of the dogs — ran under 
them, the cat sprang at once on his back, and set his teeth 



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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 69 

and claws into the flesh. The pack flew to "Jeff's" rescue, 
and in a jiffy "bobby" was rather a sorry-looking object. 

The next cat we found would not tree, but gave us a long 
chase back and forth all through a larger patch of cedars. 
We came up to the dogs two or three times, and would see the 
cat hiding and doubling with all his cunning until he finally 
allowed them to come up to him while backed up under an 
old root, where he was killed. Soon after we found another, — 
a big one, that treed in a very low cedar whose top came level 
with a little rocky point near by, so that I secured a very good 
view (No. 5) of him. 

The next one gave us a good chase and treed in a cedar top 
of bare, dead limbs. (No. 6.) I took one picture of him, and 
tried for another which was to include "Sport." He had got 
started up the tree and had worked to within three feet of the 
cat ; but just as I was about to snap on them, the little limb 
broke, and "Sport" had a grand tumble. Wells got him started 
up again, and this time I caught them (No. 7), but "Sport" was 
unable to get his footing quite so high. He treed a last time, 
but hid himself so that we could not see him. Finally, Wells 
discovered him lying flattened out on the thick boughs of the 
tree-top, and I made ready for a leaping picture, while Wells 
made him jump out. His speed, however, was greater than 
that of the shutter, so the effort was not a success. During 
our cat chases we started a coyote which the dogs hunted 
for about three hours, when he came to bay on top of a rock. 
On the west side the rock was thirty or more feet high, but 



70 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

on the other side the hill came almost to its top, so it was 
easily climbed. We left two hounds on top with him until I 
had taken a couple of snaps at him, which were worthless. 
Wells then hit him with a stone, knocking him off the rock, 
down to "Hector" and the rest below. 

Another one ran about an hour and took to a hole in the 
bank, where we left him. A third led us a three hours' chase, 
but circled round past my house, where "Music" and "Talk," 
being but young dogs, left the track and came to the house. 
A man who saw them said the coyote was but three or four 
hundred yards ahead, and could we have put them on again, 
would soon have been captured. 




.1 




CHAPTER VII 

}E were camped in a narrow gulch, as near the 
deer trails as we could find a good spot, so we 
would have but a short walk to the trail, and at 
the same time be far enough away so our tent 
would not alarm the game. We were out early one fine 
morning, Mr. Wallihan carrying both cameras to my chosen 
waiting-place, while I carried the tripods and plate-holders. 
He left me and went on to the top of a cedar-covered moun- 
tain, where he intended to select a good place for his camera. 

I was left alone to set up my instrument and watch for the 
deer with a field-glass. I could see them as they worked over 
the hill, through the sage-brush, and then disappeared until 
they came right out in front of me. (No. 31.) This band 
was a very large one, but only seven came near. They scented 
danger — you could tell it by the high heads and wild looks 
of the band. It was weary waiting; for when the weather is 
fine they feed along the trails slowly, and unless they are scared 
by hunters we sometimes wait for hours before a deer is seen. 
We have to be very watchful, having lost several fine pictures 
by being caught ten or twenty feet away from the camera, the 
deer being so close that any move would be followed by instant 
flight. 

71 



72 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

On another occasion we were out again, early in the morn- 
ing, my husband going up the mountain and I to the gulch. 
I had been up there afoot, and had ridden my pony up, but 
preferred the place in the valley; so I soon had the camera 
ready, and sat down to watch. The first game I saw was a 
coyote, who came to the water for a drink. He seemed to 
suspect something, for he ran up the bank, too far away to get 
his picture. Next I saw a band of deer coming, but they 
went away round me; and soon I heard a shot, which must 
have been from a man who was working for us and who was 
out for meat. I started to go to him, but concluded to return 
to the camera, and reached it just in time to see a lone buck 
on a hill, about a hundred and twenty-five yards away. Hav- 
ing my rifle with me, I took quick aim and fired. Down he 
went, shot in the neck. He had been on a quick trot, almost 
running. I had hardly reached my camera before I saw two 
deer coming down the gulch — one a fine buck. The little 
beauty came along, step by step, carefully watching every side. 
I feared they would take fright, so snapped on him while he 
was looking down the gulch. (No. 29.) Bidding them good- 
night, I returned to camp. 

We were camped on Bear River, at the head of Juniper 
Canon, in a grassy corner where sage-brush and cedar were 
handy for wood. At dawn we were ready to start down the 
canon to the trail. I did not start for several minutes after 
my husband, and so hurried as fast as I could to overtake him. 
I disliked very much to go down there alone, as we had seen 



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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 73 

a mountain-lion track in the sand a day or two before. As I 
walked briskly along under a big cedar, a very large owl, 
who was sitting on a limb just above my head, flew out. 
Imagine how it startled me, not seeing it, and with my mind 
on the lions, whose den was just across the river. From 
there on I almost ran until I came to the place where I was 
to watch. Here was a large pile of driftwood and brush, and 
I soon had the camera ready. Before long a small band came 
down the well-worn trail, — first a doe and two fawns, then 
three young bucks and another doe. They all started across 
but the old doe, who stayed near the shore and watched them. 
When they approached the large rock they scented danger and 
turned back; and when they were in the midst of a mad race 
for shore I snapped on them (No. 35), the doe still standing 
as at first. 

The following morning the air was full of frost as we took 
our way down the canon, and the rocks and banks were slip- 
pery with ice, which retarded us quite a little in our walk of 
a mile. When we came in sight of the trail a band of deer 
were climbing the steep mountain side, so we had to wait un- 
til they were out of sight. They soon disappeared, and we 
hastened to our chosen places, and quickly made the cameras 
ready. Another small band appeared on the top of the high 
clifi^, where there was a pass. Then they came out in full 
view, jumping and running in haste to get to the river to 
quench their thirst, for they had traveled a long way without 
water. In this deep canon they hardly feared danger. While 



74 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

they were standing, some drinking and others watching, I 
snapped on them. (No. 37.) 

Next morning, when we reached our stands at the crossing, 
we found the rocks wet where many deer had shaken the 
water from their sides. No deer were in sight. But no one 
could tell how soon they might come. This time we had our 
cameras close together; so, leaving my husband to watch for 
the deer, I turned my attention to the surroundings. Fish 
were jumping in the river, and many little birds were flying 
to and fro on the water's edge. Now and then a flock of 
ducks came down on the water above us, where the river was 
wide and deep. 

"Look," said my husband; "'way up yonder comes a bunch 
of deer." And I caught a glimpse of shiny coats as they dis- 
appeared for a moment in the brush, only to come out again 
quickly in another place. 

"About twenty, I guess," said I. 

"No, not that many," he replied; "but here they come, so 
mum 's the word." 

I could not help wondering how sure-footed they were, not 
to stumble or fall during the descent. But I have seen a deer, 
at full speed coming down this mountain, turn around, head 
up hill, quick as thought, scared at the fall of a rock. 

I waited until I was sure of all this group, and then snapped 
the shutter. (No. 36.) Then the timid old leader gave a 
snort, at which they all bolted back up the trail. We bade 
them farewell, as we were to return home on the morrow. 




Copyriglit. 19?:. Iiy A- c. Wnllihan, 



I approached within fifteen feet and took my last snap." 
(Cougar 3 1) 




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■r,pvriKt.t.l8«. Iv \ r. Walhh.in 



" At this tree I got within fifteen feet." 




ruiiyighi. ISa'i. hv A. G. Wallil 



■ A big one that treed in a very low cedar. 
(Wild Cats 3 and 5) 



CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME -j^ 

Monday morning finds us again on the trail near our home. 
With my camera ready, I sit and watch. How slow they are 
to-day ! I say to myself. Taking the field-glass, I walk to a 
higher place a few steps away, but catch a glimpse of the sun 
on the shiny coat of a deer, so I drop to my knees and creep 
back to the camera. I sit almost breathless, watching for 
them to come into the gulch and then down to the chosen 
spot. Suddenly they appear — the leader in full view, then an- 
other and another until all are in sight. On they come, right 
up in front. I want that big buck. Click ! goes the shutter, 
and I have them all. (No. 48.) Now I will try another 
kind of gun, so I raise my rifle slowly and carefully, so they 
do not see any movement; but the camera is in the way. I 
drew a bead on the big fellow and fired, but somehow the 
fawn came in the way and got the bullet in the neck. So 
much for not holding my gun tight. 

On another day in October we are away out on the rolling 
hills, far from any human habitation. Without a road, we 
wander on to find some spring where the antelope come for 
water. All day long we held on over hills and valleys, fright- 
ening the snowbirds from the ground in large flocks; they are 
omens of snow. When the sun is low in the west we come 
to a spring in a gulch. Finding many tracks along here, we 
decide to camp. In the morning, early, we put up a blind 
on the hillside, where we hide the camera and wait until 
noon. No game came in sight, so we had lunch, then de- 
cided to look out a road down the gulch, as we must move to 



76 CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME 

better water. My husband went down the gulch, while I 
watched the camera until his return. I had not waited long 
before an antelope came in sight around the point of the hill. 
They often come singly so. I thought one was better than 
none, but I was happily disappointed, as four more appeared 
on the scene, looking and watching as they came. A fawn 
followed at a little distance, but the bunch came so close I 
thought best not to wait for the fawn, so snapped the shutter 
and caught them just in time (No. 2), for my husband ap- 
peared a moment later and they vanished at once. As this 
was my first picture of antelope, I was well pleased with it. 
They are so wild that they make a very difficult subject. 

We are camped at Antelope Springs in the land of antelope, 
sage-hens, and coyotes. The pronghorn comes to water 
early, so we must find out hiding-places before his arrival. 
Our camp is at the smaller spring, over the hill and out of 
sight from the larger one. Reaching the main spring about 
sunrise, we conceal ourselves and the cameras, with all the 
skill we can command, in side gulches where they join the 
main gulch, to wait for these wild, shy creatures. The pic- 
ture (No. 10) shows them in a typical environment — rolling 
hills and plains with scant sage-brush and grass. I have seen 
them at play, running in circles and making figures of eight; 
a hundred or more thus at play make a curious sight. It is 
astonishing to see how quickly they can turn in an opposite 
direction. When the bunch in No. 10 came to the top of 
the hill I was very doubtful of success, and feared they would 




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CAMERA SHOTS AT BIG GAME jj 

disappoint me, as many another band had done. They scouted 
carefully, sending a spy out here and there, until they became 
satisfied everything was safe; then started out. The five on 
top of the hill saw the other five start and followed. I said 
to myself, " Now is the time," and snapped the shutter. 

I have seen them come in bands of all sizes. At times it 
would appear as if they sent one down to look for tracks or 
other signs of danger. If the scout or runner found that we 
had crossed the gulch, then he would snort and they would 
all scamper back to the hills. 



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